Painted Romance
by Catherine or Cate
Summary: COMPLETE CharlieHermione fic. Post War. AU. Hermione leaves all that she knows, spreads her wings and flies, with the support of someone unexpected, but not unwelcomed. Thanks to beta, Pricilla. Reposted 28 March 2008.
1. Painted Romance: 1

The war had ended in the worst way possible for Hermione Granger

III

III

The war had ended in the worst way possible for Hermione Granger. She was alone, in the true sense of the word.

Voldemort was dead, as were many of his supporters. The world which had been spinning out of control, like the colourful spinning top a child would play with, had retuned to its stable pivoting motion. People walked in the streets without fear. They had a new, strong government that was fair and just. These were all good thing to Hermione's mind but it didn't stop the loneliness.

Her parents were dead and she had no surviving family. Even Crookshanks had been claimed by the war, as had many of her acquaintances. She had her friends, yes, Harry, Ron and Ginny were there for her as they had always been but it wasn't the same. The war was won and people were allowed to love without fear of heartbreak. That was the one thing her books had never explained to her.

Love.

She had loved her parents, but they had been ruthlessly murdered. She loved the Weasley's as her surrogate family, but it wasn't the same. She loved her two best friends as brothers, and Ginny as a sister but that's all they were, the brothers and sister she never had as an only child.

As a lonely child.

Hermione lay in Ginny's old bed in Ginny's old room. Ginny was sleeping in a different room upstairs with her fiancé, The Great Harry Potter, whose love conquered the most feared wizard for a century. Hermione instinctively knew that nothing would tear those two apart. Ron was up in his bright orange room, probably dreaming about the American witch who had captured his heart. Kenzie was beautiful, intelligent and great to talk to. Hermione knew that she and Ron had their chance and missed it. And she was truly happy for them too. Hermione just resented their relationship because it symbolised everything she didn't have; family, someone to lean on, someone to trust, someone to hold and a reason to get up in the morning.

Giving up on sleep Hermione folded back the covers and got out of bed, despite her clock telling her it was half past three in the morning. She folded the covers back and straightened her pyjamas before lighting a candle and hovering it over her desk. She picked up a quill and began to write.

For the next hour, Hermione wrote furiously, often scratching out whole sentences and re-writing them while tears ran down her face. In the end, she had filled two scrolls that she felt had not adequately expressed her reasons, what ever they were. Finishing the letter, she slid it away in her jacket pocket while the garment hung on the back of her chair before pulling out a second thick letter from a hidden compartment in the desk draw, marked as being from the French Ministry. Hermione stared at the envelope letting her tears trickle down her cheeks.

Decided, Hermione finally rose and changed into a pair of jeans, and a light wool jumper the same colour as Harry's eyes. She pulled on a pair of fluffy socks and slipped on her flat heeled brown walking boots. Flicking her wand, the room began to pack itself. Her books shrunk to match box size and packed themselves into her trunk with her clothes. The sheets had flown off the bed and into the laundry basket in the corner. The blankets had folded themselves on the foot of the bed and the fluffy pillow rested lightly on top. Closing the trunk and slipping on her jacket, Hermione bewitched the trunk feather light, shrunk it and slipped it in the pocket. Grabbing her handbag, she looked quickly around the empty room before slipping out the door.

Hermione apparated to Diagon Alley and walked into the post office silently thankful it was open all day everyday. She quickly acquired a post box and wrote the address on the end of her letter to the Weasleys and Harry. She handed the note and some coins over, requesting that it be sent so it arrived at breakfast time. The man behind the counter nodded somewhat sadly as Hermione turned to leave.

'A lot of good people died during the war, Miss Granger, and I must thank you for everything you've done. But sometimes I wonder if it is worse for those left behind? Does the guilt and loneliness go away?'

Hermione turned back to see tears streaming down the man's face. Moving back to the counter, she grasped his hands. 'Merlin, I hope so,' she whispered.

Hermione left the post office and walked to the end of the alley. Stopping in the apparition cul-de-sac, she paused to wipe her tears before apparating to the international apparition point for France.

III

The village was renowned for its magical and Muggle tourist intake each summer. Hermione had visited the village once before as a little girl while on holiday with her parents. Now she had chosen the spot to live because all she remembered about the place was stopping to eat at the famous culinary town while driving south. There were no horribly painful memories.

Hermione had applied for a five year residential visa from the French ministry on her first day in France. She spent her second day being interviewed back in Paris by committees who still feared the threat of dark forces from outside sources. It took fourteen straight hours to convince them of her neutrality before she received her conditional visa. Less than a week later, she had snapped up a small property on the outskirts of the village. Hermione set straight to work.

She had begun inside. Restoring the old stone farm house to its former glory was not an easy job. With the help of a group of Australian backpackers, she had gotten the heavy lifting and hard magic done.

The four young men had stopped in a few days previously requesting a place to stay until the weather had improved. Instead of paying for board, they offered to help with the labour. The two-wizarding brothers, Gus and Milo were the sons of a Muggle carpenter, so they knew techniques they could improve upon with magic. The other two wizards, Pete and Murray, were more than happy to help in return for a place to sleep, food to eat and a decent bathroom. They had ended up staying for almost a month, and in that time they had fixed up the entire farm house, making the main part of the building a restaurant, and the two smaller cottages structurally sound as well. When the four left, they promised to return and visit before they left for Australia.

As she waved her four new friends Hermione felt a small glow in the pit of her stomach. Feeling confident, Hermione covered herself in glamour charms and apparated to London to check her post box for the first time. Due to the early hour the same old man stood behind the counter. He quietly withdrew and handed over dozens of letters to Hermione who accepted them before apparating to a quiet Muggle café for breakfast and to read over all the notes.

Hermione spent most of the morning in silent tears, reading over the worried words of her magical family as they desperately asked her to return home in the oldest letters. As the letters became more current Hermione noticed the desperation remained and was heightened in the letters from Harry, Ginny, Ron and Molly who begged for just a short note to let them know she was ok.

Leaving the café, Hermione went to a stationary store and bought writing materials before sitting down in a park to write a single reply to many of the letters. After filling pages of a letter to be sent to the Burrow answering some of the questions asked of her, Hermione wrote a second letter to Harry and Ginny agreeing to come to their wedding, on a number of conditions. Hermione felt horrible putting the demands on her friends but knew if they weren't in place she could ruin what was meant to be a happy occasion.

Returning to Diagon Alley, Hermione swiftly moved into the post office and sent the letters with two intelligent looking brown owls. She then organised to have her mail forwarded weekly to her in France. With everything organised, she returned home.

Arriving on the edge her property, emotionally drained, Hermione felt a great sense of accomplishment as she looked at the buildings. She then looked at the overgrown garden and cringed. The hedges looked nothing like the uniformed screens they were meant to be, vines and creepers had strewn themselves everywhere and weeds were almost as abundant as wild flowers.

Disillusioning herself and her broom, Hermione flew above the property and mapped out the land, the river, and the established trees and shrubs. Back at her table, she redesigned the garden, incorporating everything that she couldn't remove, to create a functional paradise.

Using the cover of night to mask her magical activity from the other villagers, Hermione slowly cleared the area of anything she didn't want or need. She then magically cleared a new driveway for the property. When she was done, there was a low hedge across the front of the property leaving space for the wide double drive way in the dead centre. To the right of the drive way was the big cottage, where Hermione planned some of her staff would sleep. On the left, the river exited her property and continued on to the town and the ocean, after meandering along the northern and western boarders. The driveway continued down the property between the trunks of the trees that formed the original perfectly straight drive. In front of the two storey house the road stopped and became a parking area. The main part of the house was Hermione's restaurant, upstairs and down. The wing, however, had been transformed into a series of budget guest rooms for people who chose to stay the night. The wing and the house together formed an L-shape that became two sides of the rectangular courtyard. From the courtyard the river could be seen and walking paths taken to the area set aside for English afternoon teas. And finally tucked over in the south-western corner of the estate was little cottage, a one bedroom home Hermione had chosen to be her own.

Hermione used local people where she could, even agreeing to hold English classes for the other town folks who struggled with it, or had previously chosen not to learn the language. Soon a couple of the town lads had requested summer jobs with Hermione. She had posed the question, in French of course, 'If you can find me some chefs, I will do my best to give you summer jobs.'

Three months later saw spring come creeping to the sea side village in Eastern France. Hermione had hired two chefs and four permanent serving staff by the beginning of April, when she went home to Britain for Harry and Ginny's wedding, the only individual letter she had replied to in the entire time she had been away.

Hermione spent the weekend relaxing with her friends and enjoying their company a lot more than she did before she had left the Burrow, while they avoid questions that could lead to Hermione carrying out her ultimatum and leaving and terminating their limited communication.

Ron seemed to be more considerate than usual, watching what he was saying, not only around Hermione but around everyone. Hermione had sat with him for three hours one evening talking about little things – favourite colours, favourite foods, favourite school memories and the like – strengthening their fading friendship. At the end of the evening Hermione and Ron both felt that they knew each other better as adults then they did as teens due to the different nature of their relationship.

Hermione also spent time separately with both the bride and groom.

Harry was his usual self, more worried about her than he was about himself and his upcoming wedding. He let Hermione control the conversations, for which she was grateful. They too ended up playing the twenty questions game she had played with Ron previously.

Her time spent with Ginny was spent crying as the petite red-head emptied all the worries she had held over the past few months out on her friend. They held each other and cried to the confusion of Harry and Ron before Hermione agreed to try retail therapy with Ginny to make themselves feel better. After spending a lot of money on clothes and shoes they spend a good half hour looking at chocolates and cake in London, unable to eat any out of fear of not fitting into their dresses for the wedding.

The ceremony arrived and was small, simple and beautiful, perfect for the tastes of the newly wed Potters. The food that was provided, on Harry's insistence so that Molly Weasley could enjoy the day, was fantastic, and on the side Hermione tracked down the chef and hired the young man for the summer. Hermione spent most of the evening in Charlie Weasley's arms on the dance floor, a deliberate ploy by the pair to stop Molly playing matchmaker for each of them. Ron, Harry and Neville Longbottom all cut in for a dance or two, but Hermione always found herself back in Charlie's arms, laughing and forever discovering new things about him as they talked; like his secret obsession with Muggle movies and music.

Then night ended and the following day Hermione prepared to leave, thankful there had been no troubles, although there had been more than a couple of very tense and awkward moments. Before she left, Hermione was pressed into promising that she would eat lunch every Tuesday fortnight at the Burrow and she promised to stay in better touch than she had in the past three months.

Before leaving England, Hermione had advertised her restaurant in various magical and Muggle broachers and then did the same in Paris. She arrived home at 'L'endroit' (The Place) to find her staff in a flurry.

'Qu'est que qui se passe? Hermione demanded to her passing staff. 'Quel qu'un me dites!' _What is happening? Someone tell me!_

III

'Hermione!'

'Gus? Is that you?' Hermione asked, working her way around the running staff.

'Yeah. How are you going?' the Australian asked, running his hand through his surfie length sandy blond hair.

'Good. Do you happen to know what is going on?'

The man blushed as he hugged Hermione before talking. 'The boys and I are animal handlers, the magical kind, remember. We are here in France to go to some conference, but the venue has been flooded and we were trying to find a new one. We suggested to use your place and they agreed. They are offering double your fees; you just have to let one hundred and thirty five people come here in about forty-five minutes. Pierre,' the Australian said, gesturing to the head waiter who was busy retying the apron of his youngest son, 'has said yes and begun preparations; we were waiting for you to get back to give the big O-K.'

'Where will you all sleep?'

'We can camp. We all have tents. Those who don't have tents or someone to bunk with can pay more to sleep in the wing.'

'Where will the seminars be held?' Hermione asked as thoughts rushed through her brain.

'Wherever we want to hold them. Tonight's menu is hamburgers. Your chefs are already at it in the kitchens. Milo, Murray, Pete and I will help you however we can, ok?' Gus promised. 'We owe you big time.'

'If we can pull this off, it could mean the French Government conducts day seminars here.'

'Then you would owe us.'

'Yes. Get moving and tell every one of your animal handler friends that due to the short notice I will need help.'

'As long as we get out of the water.'

'How did that happen anyway?'

'A long story short, it was raining last night where we were having the conference. It was dingy and the food was terrible, so when the roof started to leak and the buckets were left there as free game, the boys and I put a few multiplying charms on the buckets and sealed all the holes in the buildings. However, there was too much damage to continue, so we had to go somewhere else. Lucky the boys and I had a back up plan the whole time,' the Aussie said with an impish grin and a wink before apparating away.

Hermione found her head waiter and pulled him aside. 'Pierre, tout va bien j'espère.' _Everything goes well I hope._

'Oui, Hermione,' the Frenchman replied. 'Pour ce soir.' _Yes__, Hermione. For__ tonight_

'Ca va. Il y a dix- huit heure avant demain matin,' Hermione said, moving off toward the pops of apparition that were happening outside. _It's ok. There are eighteen hours before tomorrow morning._

'Milo,' she called spotting her friend waving to her cheerfully. 'Get them all up at the river clearing.'

Milo just nodded in reply, directing the incoming wizards and witches towards the area Hermione had specified.

'Long time no see,' a voice said close to Hermione's right ear.

'Charlie! Don't do that. You scared me,' Hermione admonished.

'Sorry,' the Weasley man apologised, twinkle in his eyes. 'So this is where you have been hiding out and refusing to tell my family.'

Charlie watched as Hermione's smile faded and the barriers went up. 'I would prefer it if you keep this to yourself.'

'If you wish.'

'I wish.'

'How about we go up to where everyone else is and I introduce you, and berate those Aussie boys.'

'Those boys are a good bunch.'

'I have no doubt that they aren't,' Charlie said, grabbing Hermione's elbow and guiding her to the clearing.

'Charlie!' a burly man called from in front of the crowd. 'Hurry up, we have to explain everything that's going on.'

'I am still checking with the boss. She does own the place.'

'Bring her up too then.'

Hermione scowled as Charlie pushed her through the crowd. 'Charlie Weasley, you are going to pay for this,' she growled.

'I know. I just need you to lay ground rules. It's better coming from you.'

'Ok. Fine,' Hermione sighed, knowing that it was the truth.

Charlie muttered a quick Sonorus charm and turned to the waiting crowd.

'Gentlemen and our token ladies, I am glad we are able to continue our proceedings here at…' Charlie paused for a moment. 'I am not even going to try and tell you where we are because I will probably get the pronunciation wrong,' he told the crowd and they laughed. 'Our crazy Aussies, Milo, Gus, Murray and Pete deserve some applause for finding a new home for our conference so quickly. Thank you, boys,' Charlie yelled over the applause. 'So now, before I hand over to the owner of this place, I am going to give you the usual, treat the staff nice and they will treat us nicely.' The crowd laughed loudly. 'Gentlemen, and ladies, this is Hermione, she knows some nasty spells, so be nice and maybe we could arrange a demonstration later in the week. Hermione,' Charlie said, indicating Hermione could take the stage.

'Everyone, I am Hermione, owner of 'L'endroit'. You are all very welcome here for the next week. I am going to ask that you set up your tents out the front along the river side of the drive so that this area can be used for your daily activities. Your hamburger dinner will be along shortly. Cereals, fruit and toast shall be served inside tomorrow morning for breakfast. After that, I am not quite sure. As for a duel, I don't know. Isn't this an animal handling conference?' Hermione asked drawing a spatter of laughter from the crowd continuing on. 'I want this week to go well, as you do also. But due to the very short notice I ask that you all show a little lenience at how things proceed for the first couple of days. Thanks and have a good time.'

Hermione walked away back to the main house, turning a deaf ear to the whispers that followed her.

III

Hermione spent most of the week fetching items needed in the kitchens and for the restaurant to make it work efficiently. She and her staff were pushed to their limits with the only disaster being a kitchen fire that was quickly handled but destroyed most of the meal one night, delaying the serving time. The four Aussies were her outdoor saviours, making sure that the grounds were'nt being damaged and doing the odd fix it job around the place. A number of other handlers even started doing a little gardening by the river, making a nice picnic spot. Charlie had been at her side every minute that he wasn't at a seminar keeping her spirits up as they laughed and joked about all manner of things and watching movies into the wee small hours.. The final night of the conference arrived and Hermione was invited to join the handlers for dinner.

After the dinner was completed, a young man stuck up his hand while the room sat in silence.

'Ah. I have a question for our hostess.'

Hermione stole a glace at Charlie to see the Weasley flush creeping up the back of his neck.

'I am going to presume that Charlie is going to be unpleasant towards you later but I will answer your questions if you dare to ask them,' she announced with a gentle squeeze of Charlie's leg under the table.

'Are you The Hermione?' the young man asked.

'Which Hermione would that be?'

'The Harry Potter, Golden Trio Hermione Granger,' a young woman called out from the back of the room.

'What do you think, Charlie?' Hermione asked catching him off guard.

'Well, it's not so much the Golden Trio Hermione anymore is it. It's more of a fiercely intelligent, striking out on her own Hermione. But they are more or less the same person I guess.'

'I guess that does make me The Hermione,' Hermione said contemptuously.

'Did you really help save us from He- Who- Must- Not- Be- Named?'

'Oh, for Merlin's sake! The bastard is dead and his name was Voldemort,' Hermione snapped. 'Yes, I helped my best friend fulfil the prophecy made about him. Yes, that in turn saved us all from horrible lives. But don't you think for one minute Harry, Ron and I got away lightly. There were consequences for our actions and we are paying the price. I as good as killed every single one of my family members by standing by Harry. Standing by what I believed in. You were all old enough to fight. Did you? Did you stand up to the bully? I use a Glamour Charm on myself almost all the time, especially with other people around. I don't like the way people gasp at my physical scars. I however can't even begin to look at my mental and emotional scars. And half the reason I am here in France is because I didn't like the way I was being forced to acknowledge myself back in England. And why was everyone scared of a made up name anyway,' Hermione said, taking a drink of water for her hoarse throat. 'Any more questions?' Hermione looked around and saw most people with their heads down avoiding eye contact. 'Good. Now if you will excuse me.'

The crowd watched as the young woman walked stiffly through the doors and off into the night.

'I would like to say congratulations to you idiots,' Charlie said, standing and addressing his peers. 'That was a great way to make this conference memorable. You just showed the greatest disrespect to a hero. The war has not even been over two years. I have watched that girl piece her life, her emotions, and her mental sanity all back together when she had no one left to fall back on. You two especially,' Charlie said pointing to the two speakers, 'Owe Hermione a huge apology. And by the time the night is over you will owe me too, because I will be the one holding her as she screams, cries and thrashes in her sleep tonight, unable to be woken. Now, I am going to and sit with that incredible young woman and you can all go to bed. War is a horrible thing. Even if you weren't there you shouldn't forget that.'

Charlie stood and followed Hermione's path out of the restaurant and down to her cottage. He knocked on the door repeatedly before just letting himself in. Charlie found her sobbing on the lounge. He slowly picked her up before he himself sat down with the young woman in his arms, and for awhile he just let her cry.

After an hour she had begun to quieten down and Charlie finally dared to speak.

'Hermione,' he whispered. 'I am going to ask you some questions. You don't have to respond aloud just tap your fingers once for no and twice for yes, ok?'

Charlie felt Hermione hand that had been clenched around the collar of his shirt loosen and her fingers tapped his bare collar bone twice.

'Is it ok if I ask these questions?'

Yes.

'Good. Do you regret staying by Harry's side?'

No.

'Is that because you know what would have come to pass otherwise?'

Yes.

'It doesn't make your parents deaths hurt any less does it?'

No.

'I am going to guess who has seen all of your scars. Harry?'

Yes.

'Ron?'

Yes.

'Various medi- witches and wizards?'

Yes.

'Ginny?'

'Ginny hasn't seen them all. Only the ones I got during the Horcrux search, before I returned to Hogwarts.'

'Sorry it wasn't yes or no. There is only one person I can think of who would make you say what you did just now and have the kind of reaction you are having to scars. Has my mother seen any of them?'

The taps returned. Yes.

'Has she seen all of them?'

Charlie felt Hermione's hand shaking as she tapped. Yes.

Charlie lifted Hermione off his lap and sat her opposite him on the other end of the couch.

'Take the glamour off. I want to see the scars.'

'Why?'

'Because I do.'

'They are ugly.'

'But you aren't.'

'I am with them showing.'

'You will have to take the glamour off and let me be the judge of that.'

Charlie felt Hermione search his eyes for the truth. After some minutes she slowly began waving her wand at herself. And slowly Charlie watched as lines and puncture marks appeared on Hermione's normally smooth skin. He watched the patterns appear on her lower legs and exposed forearms where flesh had been cut off or burnt.

Charlie looked to her face and found a horrendous scar cutting across her hairline, over her temple, in front of her ear over the curve of her jaw, down into the collar of her blouse. He traced the pinkish scar from the start and began to follow it into her blouse. Hermione looked up at him and caught his eye. After a short battle of wills, Hermione unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it off. Charlie found the scar followed its path under her right arm to finish on her back.

'Tell me who did them, when and where. This one?'

'Voldemort, final battle.'

'And this one?'

'Fenir Greyback, Attack on Hogsmeade.'

Slowly they both made their way through every visible scar on Hermione's body, Charlie tracing them slowly and Hermione reciting the details about each she knew. Before long, she was sitting in only her underwear.

'It's only fair I guess,' Charlie said standing.

'What is?' Hermione asked as Charlie dropped his pants, sat back down picked up his pants and folded them. He quickly followed with his shirts leaving him on the lounge in his boxer shorts. He quickly waved his wand and scars began to appear on his body.

Charlie grinned at the young woman opposite him and she gave a small smile back.

'I got a smile,' he cheered causing Hermione to laugh. 'And then one better.'

'Thank you,' Hermione whispered.

'You need someone to lean on too. You can call or owl me anytime. You have to know that.'

'I do now.'

'Go to bed. I am going to sleep here on the couch in case you need me, ok.'

'Thank you, Charlie.'

'Go to bed.' Charlie watched as Hermione left the room to go to bed. Transfiguring his the blanket on the arm of the lounge into a fluffy cover and the decorative pillow into a softer pillow fit for sleeping on, Charlie lay down.

It felt like only minutes later he was running towards the screams coming from the other end of the tiny cottage. Using her messed up blankets, Charlie wrapped Hermione into a cocoon to stop the thrashing. He then climbed onto the bed and pulled her into his lap and began to rock her slowly while talking quietly.

'Hermione, it's just a dream. It's not real anymore. Come on. Wake up. Come on, beautiful. Please wake up.'

Slowly Hermione only trembled and as the sun began to rise she began to wake.

Hermione woke and found herself wrapped in her own blankets resting on Charlie's lap with his arms holding her tightly. Not really wanting to, she woke the sleeping man by blowing gently in his ear.

'Morning, Hermione.'

'Morning, Charlie. Do you mind unrolling me so I can go to the bathroom?'

Charlie laughed and began to unroll Hermione from her cocoon. 'Our butterfly better hurry in the bathroom because she has been putting pressure on my bladder for the last few hours,' Charlie called through the bathroom door.

The handle clicked and the door opened. 'You can come in now. I normally take forever after a rough night,' Hermione called from the shower. Charlie entered the bathroom and went about using the toilet and washing his face all while chatting happily to Hermione. He then stepped out of the bathroom while Hermione got out of the shower before going back in after she had left of a quick shower of his own. Charlie pulled on his clothes and found Hermione sitting at the table in the tiny kitchen.

'I am going to show the staff and the Aussie boys the scars they can see without removing my clothes.'

'Yeah, I am the only one allowed to take off your clothes,' Charlie joked. 'Come on, we are late for breakfast already.

Hermione walked up to the house and into the kitchens while Charlie ducked in to the dining area to get the Australians, before taking them into the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen Hermione dropped the glamour and showed them all her scars. Stunned silence met the sight before Murray made and the comment, 'At least we know you are a fighter.'

Hermione smiled and restored the glamour. 'If you aren't going back to Australia straight away you are more than welcome to stay here for a few days.

'Thanks for the offer, Hermione,' Gus smiled. 'But we're out of here early this afternoon. It's time to get back to work.'

'Well, be sure to come back soon then.'

'Promise,' Milo said. 'And give us some promotional fliers and we will drop them off at every apparition station we pass through.'

'That would be great. But let's all have breakfast for now,' Hermione suggested leading the way back out into the restaurant.

Charlie smiled and followed them out to eat.

Hours later the staff, Hermione and Charlie were the only ones left at 'L'endroit'.

'So, what will we do now?' Charlie asked.

'I will be trying to improve my restaurant and possibly get a couple of house elves to help out,' Hermione replied.

'Hermione, I am concerned. What happens when you have a nightmare and someone is not there for you?'

'Charlie, I have been like this for years now. I will cope the way I always have. I will just get on with things.'

'No, we need to find a way to help you cope with this. What did you do as a little girl, before you went to Hogwarts that you enjoyed?'

'We?' Hermione said raising an eyebrow.

'I am not going anyway until I am sure you are going to be ok. If I did leave and Mum found out, she'd kill me, so just answer my question.'

'I used to paint,' Hermione replied unsurely.

'Do you still?'

Hermione laughed. 'I haven't painted since the summer between first and second years.'

'Ok. You have until lunch here in the restaurant. After lunch you are with me for our first class. I will be back,' Charlie said giving Hermione a kiss on the forehead. 'And I will enquire about elves while I am out.'

Hermione shook her head, slightly confused and moved back to the pages she was reviewing.

III

III


	2. Painted Romance: 2

III

III

III

Charlie arrived home after lunch and handed and envelope to Hermione. 'These are the multilingual house elves available for service. You should look over them and see which you would like to hire and when you have sent Pierre or someone to go and buy them of their current families you need to come down to the river clearing,' he said before dashing off.

Hermione shook her head at Charlie's behaviour before summoning Pierre to look over the elves with her. Once they had chosen they elves they wanted, Hermione apparated to Paris quickly to purchase the two elves. She then went and met Charlie down at the river clearing.

'Charlie, what's this?'

'Well, we need a way for you to get rid of all of your bottled emotions. You said you used to paint. Good painting requires emotion,' Charlie said, putting a paint brush in Hermione's hand. 'And if it doesn't work, I do have plan b, c and d.'

Hermione laughed. 'OK. What do I have to do?'

'I want you to focus on a memory and paint it. You can paint it exactly how you remember or you can make it abstract or any way you want. I just want you to paint until you have made a visual representation of one of your memories.'

Hermione looked at Charlie sceptically for a few minutes before turning to face the set up canvas. She slowly dipped the brush into the black paint before touching it to the canvas. Charlie on the other hand settled into a deck chair he had set up to read a novel he had found on Hermione's shelves.

III

Hours later, Hermione stepped back from the canvas and let the brush drop to her side.

'I'm finished,' she said quietly without turning around.

'You have to sign it,' Charlie whispered, gently pushing Hermione forward. He looked over the painting while Hermione painted her name into the corner. 'The Battle of Hogwarts?'

'Yeah,' Hermione sighed.

'It's really good for a first effort. We will put it away after it has dried a little. Let's grab something to eat,' Charlie suggested, steering Hermione toward her little cottage.

For the next week, all Hermione did was paint the dark, grisly, bloody images that the war had etched into her brain improving the result with every canvas. At night, she wrote detailed information about each painting. Charlie visited the painting shop on a daily basis, buying anything that Hermione needed.

All too soon, the day came that Charlie had to return to his dragons in Romania.

'I want you to floo me once a week please,' Charlie asked. 'Let me know you are ok. Make sure you keep going to Tuesday lunches and keep this restaurant going.'

Hermione nodded in reply before giving Charlie a huge hug. 'I will keep painting.'

'Good. We will set up a gallery eventually, in memory of all those who died.'

'Ok,' Hermione said with a smile. 'Next you will be suggesting that I write the book, from my perspective,' she joked.

'That's not such a bad idea,' Charlie said, dropping a kiss on Hermione's forehead. 'See you soon.'

'Bye,' Hermione waved before Charlie apparated away. Moving up to the house, Hermione prepared began to prepare herself and her restaurant for the onslaught of summer.

III

During the summer months a lot of business men, French and foreign, magical and Muggles, expressed interest in holding conferences at 'L'endroit' to Hermione's pleasure. As the summer waned and the trees began to take on autumn shades of red and gold, the restaurant became a conference centre for at least two, multiple day conferences per week along with many family dinners on the weekends.

As autumn became winter, Hermione and her staff began taking on magical and Muggle weddings alike to great success and for the Christmas season Hermione was forced to hire more staff. Business was getting better and better.

Hermione and all the staff of 'L'endroit' went home for five days starting Christmas Day. Hermione went home to the Weasley's for a joyous season. She had painted gifts for each family, with Charlie the only one knowing the reasoning behind the artworks. He had been surprised when Hermione had asked Ron and Harry if she could write about what they did during the war as a way of her coming to terms with it, with the possible eventual outcome of publishing it. Charlie had stood in the door way listening while Hermione put forward her argument to an accepting Ron and a wary Harry. After a while they both agreed to let Hermione write the book, but on the condition she started from what had happened during their early Hogwarts years and they would be able to read it before she even put it out for publishing.

Hermione had then left to go back the day before New Years Eve, leaving the Weasleys in surprise.

'I don't understand what's happened with Hermione,' Molly Weasley worried the next morning.

'She seems ok,' Harry said from behind his newspaper.

'She's different. So different and I don't know why. She used to talk to me,' Ginny worried like her mother.

'Look,' Charlie said, speaking up in a conversation he normally avoided. 'Hermione is fine. She's doing great at what she's doing and on top of everything Hermione is coming to terms with what happened during the war. As much as she loves us and we love her, the Weasleys are not the Grangers.'

'How do you know this, Charlie?' Ginny asked suspiciously, twirling her wand between her fingers, a threatening manner to all her brothers, while Ron and Harry looked up with questioning expressions.

'Ginny, there is no need for wand or a bat-bogey hex! I know because I listened when she needed it. And I see or talk to her every week at least,' Charlie said, getting angry. 'And I know how much your reaction to her scars affected her, Mum. And I know that you weren't the type of friend she needed Ginny. Shopping isn't fun for people who hate their appearance. And the other two thirds of the Golden Trio left her alone when she needed them most, when she needed distracting from the guilt.'

'She has no reason to feel guilty,' Molly cried.

'But she does. That's my point. She left as a way of coming to terms with all of this. Hermione is getting better. But right now you have an hour or so to write any letters you want to write and I will take them to her because I now have to apologise for telling you something that wasn't mine to tell,' Charlie said, leaving the kitchen for his room.

Charlie quickly packed and went back downstairs. He said goodbye to his mother, brother, sister and brother-in-law before Apparating away. Charlie arrived a few minutes later in the kitchen of 'L'endroit' and asked one of the tiny house elves where Hermione was.

'She's over at the new house, Sir.'

'The new house?'

'Above the river.'

Charlie nodded. 'Hey Carlos,' he greeted one of the chefs. 'When did Hermione buy the other property?'

'She bought it just before Christmas,' the man answered, turning on the various stoves and grills. 'She's going to make it into a camping ground or a hotel, I think. But down on the river she's built a little studio for her painting. And there are vegetable gardens going in too. And she is possibly going to buy up the old bakery and sell meals for tourists on the run there. Make it a cake shop or something. I am not sure. She was going to talk to us after New Year was over.'

'Wow. How do I get up there?'

'Just Apparate over the river. There are only wizards here today. Hermione will show you the secret way of getting there if she wants.'

'Thanks mate. I'll see you later.'

'Ciao.'

Charlie Apparated from the kitchen to the other side of the river, then to other visible Apparition sites until he located the studio. Knocking on the door Charlie waited.

'Charlie! What are you doing here?'

'I came to apologise. I kind of opened my mouth when everyone was talking about you in the kitchen this morning. I gave them a pretty big picture of what was going on with you.'

'Knowing you Charlie Weasley,' Hermione said. 'It is not going to be a problem. I should probably thank you for saving me the hassle of giving the 'I am finally getting better' speech myself. I should really invite all of them down here soon.'

'I have letters from each of them.'

'Bring them out and put them on the table out here for me to read later,' Hermione called from in front of her new canvas in the glass room of the studio.

'How are you sleeping?'

'So much better since I started painting. The happiness I feel when I paint negates the sadness, guilt and anger I feel for what I am painting,' Hermione said making long steady strokes with her brush. 'I am getting better. I am coming to terms with all this.'

'You are doing fantastically,' Charlie smiled.

'I bought this land to make it into a hotel for when the conferences come, because last year a lot of people who investigated turned away because there was nowhere to sleep. That means more of a profit. I am still booking magical and Muggle people in all the time and I think we are getting quite a reputation.'

'And you still find time to paint.'

'Well, the French ministry have put up building charms on this place for me so Muggles think its being done slowly, but I should start next month. And I also bought a place in Diagon Alley that has been empty since the war. I was going to put a gallery in for all artists, but with a special focus on the war. I might even put a shop in on one of the upper levels eventually. Maybe do some summer classes.'

'Hermione,' Charlie laughed. 'This is all so brilliant. I am so, so proud of you.'

'Thank you,' Hermione said, putting down her brush. 'It means a lot to me.'

'Are you finished that already?' Charlie asked getting up.

'Yep.'

'That was quick.'

'It was already all sketched out and the main colours painted in. I just needed you in front of me to finish it.'

'What? You needed me?'

Hermione turned the short wide picture around. Charlie was surprised to see his own eyes looking back at him.

'It looks so real.'

'I have made one for each of the Weasleys and Potters, yours is the first finished. It's my collection. I think I might put them in Muggle galleries when I am done.'

'This is amazing, Hermione!' Charlie said excitedly, picking Hermione up and swinging her around so she laughed. He gently placed her back on her feet and looked into her own eyes.

'Can I paint you again?'

'Any time you want,' Charlie replied. Slowly Charlie tilted Hermione chin up and moved his mouth down until their lips met in a soft kiss. Gently he pulled away but before he could move far Hermione's hands linked around his neck and had begun to pull the thin woman up so their mouths met again in a much longer, much more passionate kiss.

'Stay 'til midnight?' Hermione whispered as they pulled apart.

'It's New Years Eve, isn't it?'

'Stay,' Hermione said, stealing another kiss.

'Whatever you want.'

III

III


	3. Painted Romance: 3

Charlie awoke New Years Day to the scent of orange and something he couldn't place

III

III

Hermione Granger awoke and rolled over in her large bed until her body met with Charlie's. Snuggling into the sleeping dragon handler, she lay there, sorting through the horrid images of her mind as she often did when she felt safe and comfortable. Hermione sifted through her memories of the war storing some back away in the files of her mind, others into the deepest corners. She lay with her hand drawing slow circles on Charlie's far shoulder when the memory took her.

Hermione almost cried out as she relieved one of the many horrible experiences of her life that she had chosen to forget. The memory was playing out like a horror film and would not stop. Resorting to her Muggle heritage, Hermione paused the memory as it appeared before her eyes, stopping on a horribly graphic moment. Hermione looked at the image for a moment before she thrashed around in an attempt to loosen herself from the blankets that entangled her.

'Mi? What's wrong?' Charlie asked blearily.

'I have got to paint!' she replied, before apparating to her studio, only clad in her pyjamas.

'Ok then,' Charlie said, dismissing the relatively normal behaviour of his lover as her fell back onto the bed to sleep.

III

Charlie spent the day reading in the sun outside Hermione's cottage before he finally went inside to prepare for the dinner they had planned at L'endroit for that evening. Charlie showered and changed before laying out three dresses that he loved seeing Hermione in on the bed as a hint of what she should wear. Writing a quick note and leaving it stuck to the bathroom door, Charlie apparated to Paris.

After wandering around the capital for a few hours, Charlie finally left France during the late afternoon to go and pick up his family for dinner. Arriving in the garden at the Burrow, he slowly walked inside. He barely made it in the kitchen door when he was set upon by Ginny with the newest Potter on her hip.

'Explain how you know where we are going and I, Hermione's closest female friend, don't.'

Charlie laughed and hugged his little sister. 'You're not sleeping with her.'

'What?'

'I would appreciate it if you wouldn't repeat that,' Charlie said with a look, before waving his wand to let down the privacy shield. 'Is everyone here?'

'George is still closing up, but Sally and the boys are here. He shouldn't be far away.'

Charlie nodded to Fred and prepared the length of rope portkey that would take them to L'endroit in France.

'I'm here,' George called over the noise of the playing children, from which his own sons broke away to greet him.

'If that is everyone, grab on,' Charlie instructed holding out the piece of rope to his twenty present family members. When he was sure that all were touching the rope and his nieces and nephews were holding on Charlie clearly said the activation words and they were whisked away to France.

They arrived in the middle of the restaurant that had a number of other people in it. Charlie greeted the three of the four Australians who had returned to visit, as well as other villagers and a number of businessmen. The Weasleys looked around in amazement at the large, classy restaurant.

'Hey, Charlie!' called out Milo, the final Australian who arrived with a huge bouquet of flowers. 'Where is your missus?'

'I have no idea,' Charlie replied over the crowd. 'Shall I go and check if she's in her studio?'

'That'd be a good idea, mate,' the handsome Aussie replied.

Charlie grinned at his sister's raised eyebrow before apparating into the studio. He called out Hermione's name and looked around before determining that she had already left. Looking at the canvas still on the easel he saw that is it was still wet. Charlie cringed as he looked closely at the picture. Deciding that Hermione was probably getting ready he headed back to the party.

'What's up with you?' Gus asked, seeing a very pale Charlie reappear.

'The woman needs to stop painting stills from horror movies,' Charlie groaned, shaking his head. 

'You don't like it then?' Hermione asked, having appeared a few feet away.

'Not particularly, but Harry might like seeing Pettigrew missing half his head.'

'It's going into the gallery,' Hermione replied and Charlie nodded.

'What gallery?' Ginny asked, approaching her friend.

'Oh, just the one I bought. But that's not what we are here for tonight.'

'What are we here for?' Harry asked, handing his infant son to his wife, who passed him onto Hermione, his godmother.

'We are here for the opening dinner of the hotel and patisserie, of course,' Hermione said, walking away to greet her guests, godson in tow.

'I should go…'

'You are going nowhere Charles Weasley, until you explain exactly what is going on.'

'Nothing that you won't get answers to later, ok?'

Ginny glared at her brother before storming off. Harry and Charlie looked at each other for a moment.

'She told me, you know.'

'I thought she would,' Charlie said, snatching two butterbeers from the tray of a passing waiter and handing one to Harry.

'She has been happier this last six months then I have ever known her. Is that about right?'

Charlie nodded at his brother-in-law. 'Six months would be about it, yeah.'

'Is she still painting?'

'How did you know?'

'Ginny said that while shopping one day Hermione visited an art supplies store in Muggle London and stocked up big. I then looked at those paintings she gave us at Christmas and eventually found her name.'

'She's still painting. I promise you that,' Charlie grimaced, thinking of the painting he saw earlier.

'And how is the book going? Do you know?'

'The book I am not sure about. I finished up in Romania the other day and have been pretty much sleeping ever since. Just because I haven't seen her write, doesn't mean she doesn't. If she simultaneously runs this place, paints and writes I wouldn't be surprised.'

'She runs this place!' Harry exclaimed in surprise.

'She owns it, Harry,' Charlie said with a grin and walking away.

III

The dinner was over and nearly all the guests had gone. Hermione was laughing with the four Australians while she organised their room keys while Charlie sat with his parents, brothers and sisters who were trying to pry information out of him.

'Leave the man alone,' Hermione declared, reaching the table filled with her adoptive family and sitting down on Charlie's knees. 'He had nothing to do with most of this.'

'All of it,' Charlie muttered.

'No, I blame you for the gallery and studio, Charles Weasley,' Hermione said with a look.

'That I can accept.'

'Good. Any questions?'

'We want the whole story from the start,' Ron demanded.

'From the moment you left the Burrow,' Ginny said, moving her chair so she could comfortably place her feet on Harry's lap.

'You don't want much, do you Ginny?' Hermione laughed. 'Ok. Well I left your house and travelled along the French coastline until I found this place. I had money from Mum and Dad and from the Ministry so I decided to buy it and do it up. That was this time last year. Those four Australians, Murray, Milo, Gus and Pete, asked if they could stay here. I said yes in return for help. The five of us started renovating this place. They left and I continued on my own, with the occasional help of the town lads. Slowly, I turned this property into the restaurant and the staff quarters you see. Just before Christmas, I bought the land above the river to build the hotel on, because in the colder months L'endroit becomes a conference centre as well as a restaurant, and we would also like to hold more weddings. Then a few months ago I bought the old patisserie in the village and last night officially opened it and the hotel for business. I will cut the ribbons for the newspapers later in the week.'

'When did you and Charlie begin?' Molly Weasley asked.

Charlie raised an eyebrow at Ginny. 'I only told Harry,' she replied.

'I worked it out myself a while ago,' Molly told the couple.

'Charlie was here with the Magical Creatures conference a bit over six months ago. I at the time I had some problems and he helped me solve them by painting. We only 'began' over Christmas.'

'Painting.'

'Yeah. I used to paint when I was a child and started back up as a way of dealing with all my memories from the war.'

'Harry found your name,' Charlie said.

'You did?' Hermione asked Harry.

'Yes. It was in the tree on my painting of that clearing…'

'I know exactly what it was Harry.'

Harry nodded, 'And on Ginny's it was in the fireplace.'

'I am surprised you found them. My signatures are difficult to find if you don't know where to look.'

'Did you paint those pictures you gave us at Christmas?'

'Yes, Arthur. I did.'

'They are really good,' George's wife, Sally, enthused. 'I used to paint but I am nowhere near that good.

'Are you happy here, Hermione?' Ron asked.

'Very. I will be back in London for a while before the summer vacation begins to open the gallery but I will be coming back here.'

'You are opening a gallery?' Fred asked.

'In that empty shop opposite you,' Hermione grinned. 'I believe I outbid you.'

'And a number of other people,' George sighed. 'Old Clancy said he sold the shop to someone who would make it greater than great.'

'It will be.'

Hermione looked around and watched her staff beginning to set up for the conference to start the next day.

'How about you all come back here for dinner next Saturday night,' Hermione suggested, getting up. 'I have a big week ahead and I need to organise each of you to come in.'

'What for?' Ginny asked.

'So I can finish your portraits,' Hermione replied.

III

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	4. Painted Romance: 4

III

III

III

Hermione looked around Diagon Alley as dusk settled over the wizarding shopping district. Letting out a long sigh, Hermione rested the large canvasses on her toes while she opened the lock on the gallery door. Walking into the gallery, Hermione leant the paintings up against the wall before pulling out her wand and casting a series of spells on the doorway to protect herself from intruders while she worked. With a wave of her wand she lit the Muggle like lights that hung from the ceiling in preparation of a long evenings work.

The balmy night air was warm around her as Hermione sorted through the huge collection of canvases standing in the boxes that she had brought there over the previous few days or were leaning against the white walls half unwrapped from their protective covers. Moving around the room she began to hand the frames ready for viewing by the public.

'Hello?' Ginny called from the doorway, her son on her hip and her husband behind her.

'Up the back near the stairs,' Hermione replied, using magic to make the frames perfectly level.

Ginny and Harry made their way across the polished hardwood floors until they found their friend.

'How are you doing?'

'Great! How are you both?' Hermione asked as she began to hang another portrait.

'Good.'

'Good,' Harry replied. 'These paintings are amazing, Hermione,' Harry commended as he watched Hermione place her work on the walls. 'I thought that you weren't going to put these portraits of our eyes into a wizarding gallery.'

'I changed my mind,' Hermione said as she waved her wand at the freshly hung painting and making it level. 'They make a good first exhibition and then I can put them in a Muggle gallery.'

'I thought you only did the family,' Ginny said, walking up to one of the frames and studying it. 'These eyes look like Neville Longbottom's.'

'They are,' Hermione replied. 'When I decided to make it into an exhibition I had to go and ask a whole heap of others who fought beside us in the final battle to sit for eye portraits.'

Standing back, Hermione observed the three rows of portraits, staggered in a brick formation on the long wall of the gallery, before waving her wand and creating little captions to go beside the bottom right corner of each frame.

'Harry, can you please put these up while I try and contact Charlie?' Hermione asked, handing the squares to her best friend.

'Sure,' he replied, picking up the first card and walking along the wall to try and find the corresponding eyes.

Slipping down into the basement, Hermione found crates and crates of her paintings labelled according to which floor they had to be transported to. With her hands on the stacks, Hermione began apparating the crates to the right floors. As she almost finished her task Charlie, Fred and George all arrived with three more stacks.

'Can you take them straight the right floors please?' Hermione asked tiredly.

'Sure,' one of the twins nodded before they both disappeared.

'We need to decorate down here,' Charlie suggested, pulling Hermione into an embrace. 'It needs to be comfortable because I think we will be sleeping here for the next few nights.'

Hermione nodded. 'I will have to finish decorating the top floors tomorrow to look like the others.'

'Show me?'

Hermione let her small soft hand be engulfed by Charlie's large calloused one as he led her outside, talking to his siblings as they passed through the ground floor. Soon he and Hermione were out in the Alley looking up at the seven story building.

'Explain it to me.'

'Well,' Hermione began. 'The walls and ceilings inside are all white, the floors the honey coloured polished timber. The front doors are actually French doors that can be opened up in the summer so there is no front wall, and the windows on the upper levels are the same. The outside of the building is also white with a red tile roof.'

'Explain the gallery to me,' Charlie urged, wrapping his arms around Hermione's waist from behind.

'The artwork on the bottom floor will change every six months, hopefully showcasing other artists soon. At the moment it is my eyes collection. There is the information desk halfway up the room next to the stairs everyone will use to come down.'

'How do people get up?'

'Let me finish,' Hermione replied, playfully smacking Charlie's forearms. 'That green square on the floor can transport up to twenty five people to the corresponding green square on the sixth floor to start their tour of the gallery costing thirteen sickles for adults, seven for children. The blue square will take ten to the café on the fourth floor and back for a price four sickles each, people who take the blue square can't use the stairs. The red square will take three to the seventh floor to the studio and art school costing one galleon for a ten-trip pass or otherwise included in their fees. The yellow rectangle takes five customers to the art shop on the second floor for one sickle each up and they can take the stairs back down. The other floors are galleries.'

'So, the ground floor is the first floor and the first, third, fifth and sixth floors are galleries.'

'Yes, with artwork also in the café.'

'Is any of the artwork for sale?'

'The ones with red spots on the labels.'

'And there is an art supply shop on the second floor and art school on the top to entice people to take up painting.'

'Yep,' Hermione grinned.

'And the ground floor is cost free to look around.'

'Correct again.'

'And hopefully people will go upstairs once they see down stairs.'

'That's the idea.'

Charlie nodded thoughtfully as he headed back inside, his arm now around his girlfriend's shoulder.

'Take photos of everything and keep it in books so we can look over it and know who bought what paintings.'

'Will do,' Hermione yawned.

As night fell, the group of Weasleys grew as the family came to the gallery to help set it up in time of the opening in a fortnight.

III

Hermione awoke one morning two weeks later in her cottage in France filled with nerves. Snuggling into her sleeping boyfriend she smiled, breathing in the scent of his cologne imbedded into his pillow.

'Am I ready?' Hermione asked herself. 'Downstairs good. Upstairs, good. Café and café staff ready. Gallery staff ready. Summer guides ready…'

'Chill, Mi,' Charlie groaned, rubbing his hand over his eyes. 'It's too early.'

'We have to get going in case I forgot something,' Hermione insisted.

'We aren't going anywhere. We will arrive as you planned at eleven when the doors will open for the first time for the invited guests and anyone else who comes. You will smile. You will blush at their compliments. You will do your spiel and then you will officially open your gallery. Right now it is… six- o- five,' Charlie told Hermione, sitting up with a cheeky grin pasted on his face. 'So where do you think you are going?'

Hermione smiled in reply.

III

Hermione stood in the shadows at the back of the gallery, twitching nervously, while Charlie leaned casually on the wall beside her in a brown suit, blue shirt and tie.

'Stop it,' Charlie said, taking both her hands in his. 'You look great. They will love it. The third floor is a little confronting but they will love it.'

Hermione smiled, nervously running her hands over her grey pencil skirt for the hundredth time.

'Are the lines in my pantyhose straight?'

'Perfectly.'

'And my hair. Is my hair ok?'

'It's fine.'

'Should I change my blouse? Purple ruffles was a really bad idea wasn't it?'

'It's fine, Mi. Shut up and open the doors. And slouch a little because you're making me look short.'

Hermione smiled and waved her wand at the doors, which folded back letting the waiting crowd inside. Hermione watched as they all looked around her gallery as variety of people wandered around. With an encouraging wave from Ginny, Hermione made her way across the floor and scooped up her godson before greeting the Potters and Weasleys.

'You ready?' Fred and George asked.

'What have you done?'

'Some fireworks. Outside and fully contained.'

'Ok,' Hermione smiled.

'Are you sick?' Fred asked, pretending to check Hermione's brow for a temperature.

'Nervous.'

'But you are allowing our fireworks,' George whispered in pretend shock.

'Your fireworks attract attention that will lead people here from where I can direct them over to your lovely store.'

'I think she discovered our ulterior motive, Gred.'

'Look for a quick escape, Forge.'

Hermione handed her godson back to his parents and straightened her skirt for the umpteenth time.

'No escape for me,' Hermione sighed, looking at the steps leading to the small platform she was about to speak from.

'No time like the present,' Charlie smiled, squeezing her hand.

'Knock 'em dead,' Harry grinned, his emerald eyes sparkling almost as much as his wife's chocolate ones, as they both looked at Hermione proudly.

Putting one foot in front of the other Hermione found herself up on the platform looking out at the expectant crowd.

'Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to The Gallery,' Hermione greeted, a large smile on her face.

III

Charlie wrapped his strong arms around Hermione's waist while she stood behind the cash register counting the money in the till, doing her best to ignore him. He silently let her count the coins, pulling the pins out from her hair, letting it fall in a mass of brown curls. Gently, he put his lips on the warm skin of the nape of her neck and breathed in a smell that was all Hermione.

'You need to shave,' Hermione whispered, her hand drifting up and pulling Charlie's head closer to her.

'You're just saying that.'

Charlie watched as Hermione eyes crinkled as she smiled mischievously twisting in his arms so they were face to face. 'I know, but there is something about it that just drives me wild.'

'Who am I to argue with that?' Charlie asked, stealing kisses.

'What's on your mind, Charlie?' Hermione questioned, pulling away from Charlie's lips. 'Please tell me. You have been cool, calm and collected all day and now… you are so tense.'

Charlie closed his eyes as Hermione's hands glided across his taut shoulders.

'Talk to me please.'

Charlie opened his blue eyes to see Hermione's cinnamon searching his own for an answer. 'It's silly.'

'Nothing is ever silly, Charlie. You have done so much for me in the past twelve months. Let me do something for you.'

'No. Today is not the time for this. It was the opening of your gallery.'

Hermione's mouth became a thin line as she pulled away from her boyfriends embrace. 'Charles Arthur Weasley, you will speak your mind immediately.'

Charlie looked at Hermione for a second, and seeing that there was no way to win or avoid confrontation, he ran his fingers through his hair before sticking them both in his pants' pockets.

'Well?'

Charlie looked up and pulled his right hand out of its' pocket, holding a ring in his fingers up to Hermione who remained silent.

'Do you see now why I didn't want to say anything?' Charlie asked, looking at Hermione as tears formed in her eyes.

'I…' she whispered, taking the gold band with a huge diamond surrounded by smaller ones into her shaking hands.

'You what?' Charlie asked with a small smile.

'I want to know if you will marry me?' Hermione asked, looking up.

Charlie's eyebrows shot up before he chuckled, crossed the space between them and kissed the woman soundly, before breaking away.

'You have no idea how much I love you,' he whispered.

'I'll take that as a yes,' Hermione laughed, handing Charlie back the ring and holding out her left hand so he could slip the jewel on. 'I love you.'

'Good,' Charlie mumbled into Hermione's ear before covering her jaw, neck and collarbones in scratchy kisses. Charlie felt Hermione tense as they bumped into the counter. 'You ok?' he asked, pausing in his activities.

'Take me home,' Hermione whispered in his ear, as she wiggled back until she was resting on the counter.

Charlie smiled to himself before wrapping his arms around the woman he loved and doing precisely as she requested.

III

III


	5. Painted Romance: 5 Epilogue

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Painted Romance

III

Epilogue – After Fifty Years of Marriage

III

Hermione sat in her studio, in the tower of her and Charlie's home, dressed in old jeans and a t-shirt. Reclined on the brown leather sofa before her was her husband of half a century, in all his glory. The two bantered lovingly while Hermione let her brush dance over the large canvas that was capturing her love.

'Are you almost done?' Charlie asked.

'Almost,' Hermione replied in a sing song voice. 'Why darling? Are you cold?'

'You know damn well I'm cold. I can tell by the smirk on your face.'

'Don't worry. It's already been painted. I am just doing the final touches to the area around you.'

'So I can get up and put some clothes on then?'

'No.'

Hermione snickered as Charlie complained about perverted old wives.

'It's art, Charlie, art.'

'Well, next time I am painting you, Hermione,' Charlie declared.

'And we all know where that ends up,' Hermione laughed. 'I'll have to think about it long and hard.'

'You done thinking yet?' Charlie asked, getting up off the sofa and walking over to Hermione who put down her pallet and brushes.

'I reckon you could paint me, as long as you don't waste canvas.'

'I won't. I'll be sure to tend to every inch.'

'Don't I know it,' Hermione said relaxing into Charlie's embrace as their lips connected. But their kiss was interrupted by a loud kiss and the appearance of their house-elf.

'Master and Mistress asked Tooky to tell them when it was half an hour before the family was to arrive. It's half an hour,' the tiny house elf squeaked, its' small hands firmly covering its tightly shut eyes.

'Thank you, Tooky,' Charlie laughed.

'Your clothes is being on your bed. Make sure you put them on.'

'Yes, Tooky,' Hermione giggled, pulling her shirt back on. 'We have no plans on scaring the entire family with our state of dress, or undress as the case may be.'

'You be scaring Tooky all the time!' The elf cried before popping away.

'We better get dressed.'

'Yeah,' Hermione agreed. 'Let's hang this new portrait up first.'

Taking one end of the portrait each, Charlie and Hermione lifted it and walked out of the room.

'Is there any space for it here in the tower?' Charlie asked as they poked their heads into yet another tower room that was already filled with portraits of one or the other of the naked couple.

'We might have to start a new room,' Hermione groaned.

'Another! We have to stop painting these portraits, Mi.'

'I know. But they are such fun to paint.'

'I'd hate to see the kids' faces when they find this lot after we die,' Charlie laughed suddenly while the pair hung their newest portrait in a bare room.

'I was thinking we should investigate some sticking charms worthy of Mrs Black for a select few of the portraits.'

'Touché, Mrs Weasley.'

'We better get moving.'

Charlie and Hermione hurried out of the tower, locking the doors firmly behind them as they rushed to their rooms. It took the couple five minutes to dress properly before arriving downstairs as their middle child did with her husband.

The two couples greeted each other warmly before Lorelai discreetly pointed out to her mother that her shirt was on backwards, making her mother blush as the forty year old mumbled something about rabbits and teenagers.

'Shush you,' Hermione reprimanded jokingly. 'Where are the others?'

'Your six other children and their partners will be here shortly, bringing with them your forty-one grandchildren and twenty four partners and your very first great-grand child.'

'That's one way to make me feel old,' Charlie muttered wrapping his arms around Hermione as their family flooed or apparated into their home.

'You're only eighty two, Charles Weasley.'

'Stop it!'

'You know damn well that everything still works,' Hermione smirked.

'Flatterer.'

'We better say hello.'

Hermione and Charlie separated, moving around the room to greeting their descendants and their significant others and ushering them into The Family Room.

'Welcome, everyone,' Hermione cried out once all the guests were in the room. 'Can you all take a look around, update your portraits with three drops of blood onto the corner of the canvas and let me know who needs their portrait repainted. We shall reveal our newest family members portrait in fifteen minutes, before hanging it on the wall.'

Hermione smiled as a number of her children and grandchildren moved forward and dropped their blood on the corner of their portrait frame. Others approached her and Charlie to request new portraits for themselves, new partners, or their children. Within the time limit, everyone was finished and assembled before the newest portrait on the walls, which was still covered by the red velvet cloth.

'Where's Christian?' Charlie asked the crowd.

'Over here,' one of their grandsons called before handing the child over to Charlie.

'Hello beautiful,' Hermione cooed as Charlie held the one year old beside his frame. 'Are you ready?'

The baby clapped his hands in reply.

'Good boy,' Hermione cooed as Charlie rolled his eyes.

'Everyone, Hermione and I are so glad you all came today,' Charlie said waving his hand to the still portraits at the top of the wall that represented himself and Hermione. 'Today, we will be adding the newest member of our family onto the most interesting family tree in wizarding world. What is a tapestry when you could have a series of portraits?'

The audience clapped, cheered and laughed.

'Hermione, if you could get Christian to do the honours please.'

Hermione accepted the baby from her husband and talked to him animatedly before letting the child grab the cloth and pull it of the picture frame.

'Christian Jude Weasley!'

Hermione and Charlie stood side by side as their family admired little Christian's first portrait, which showed a true likeness of the baby.

'And may I let you all know that this portrait was painted by Lorelai, under her mother's supervision. Congratulations, sweetheart.'

The entire room clapped and cheered for their sister, aunt and mother.

'Now, it is time for a party,' Hermione cheered, pointing to the rear of the hall where food and beverages had been laid out by the elves.

Charlie and Hermione allowed themselves to be seated in their armchairs and to have their family bring them plates of food and drinks. The whole time they were seated their hands were joined in a show of solidarity, strength and love.

'Mum,' Seth said, quietly walking up behind Lorelai.

'What is it, Seth?'

'Look at Grandad and Nana,' he said pointing at Charlie and Hermione. 'They are always like that. They are so old yet still so in love. It's soppy.'

'No, it's not,' Lorelai laughed. 'It's beautiful. You should take a photograph and paint that scene for them.'

Seth grinned. 'I have already taken a number of photos and asked Tooky for photos of them both in the last fifty years. I already have the perfect name for my collection as well.'

'A name for your non-existent collection of artwork?' Lorelai asked, surprised.

'It will soon exist. It's going to be called 'Painted Romance'.'

III

FIN

III


End file.
